


Taraxacum

by GayaIsANerd



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Mentions of Mental Illness, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Soul Bond, non binary mikael, non-graphic mentions of sex, science buds isak and sana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 01:57:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13847655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayaIsANerd/pseuds/GayaIsANerd
Summary: Isak would never say this out loud, but he’s a hopeless romantic.His mother told him stories about the soulbond, how everyone was born with a symbol somewhere on their bodies, linking them to someone else, somewhere in the universe.These symbols were a representation of the soulmates’ souls.





	Taraxacum

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! <3
> 
> So this is it, finally, my big bang fic! This has been a long time in the making, and wow, did my depression not agree with writing this. But I'm so happy it's done now.
> 
> I would never have finished this without the help of some amazing people!  
> [Ade ](https://blueblood-and-the-crossroads.tumblr.com/), [Laura](https://that-life-is-now.tumblr.com/) and [Nicole](https://diminuendodaydream.tumblr.com/)  
> for beta'ing this fic, for letting me whine and bitch and moan about this and for being amazing! I love you so much!  
> Last but not least, the amazing [Ikram](https://isaksy.tumblr.com/) for not only beta'ing but making me an [edit](http://greathalesonfire.tumblr.com/post/171458132209/taraxacum-chapters-11-fandom-skam-norway). You are the best bud anyone could wish for and I'm so happy to have you in my life!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one!
> 
> Translation into Russian available: [Taraxacum](https://ficbook.net/readfic/6631118/16946296) by Шерилин

Isak would never say this out loud, but he’s a hopeless romantic.

When Isak was old enough to understand what the symbol on his ribs meant, he had delighted in the flower. His mamma had taken him out for walks, pointing out the flowers like his, sprouting from the sidewalk, in vivid bursts of yellow. Little Isak had tenderly run his fingers over the petals, marvelling in the flower blooming, fighting for its right to survival, even in the toughest spots. When the time came for the flower to seed, Isak had blown as hard as he could, hoping to spread the seeds far and wide, envisioning the flowers blooming between every crack.

His mother told him stories about the soulbond, how everyone was born with a symbol somewhere on their bodies, linking them to someone else, somewhere in the universe.

These symbols were a representation of the soulmates’ souls.

According to his mamma, everyone had a soulmate, but sometimes soulmates were special and they could sense each other's feelings. They knew when the other was in pain, or sad. But also when they were happy and in love.

Isak wanted nothing more than to have a soulmate to share his feelings with, someone to share his deepest fears and greatest wishes. Someone that knew him, completely. His mamma had kissed his curls and told him she was sure he would find a soulmate like that.

She told him that meeting that other person was the most wonderful thing in your life. Isak listened mesmerized by how his mamma described meeting his pappa, how the soulbond pulled them together.

Isak watched his pappa kiss his mamma on the cheeks and wished with all the might in his little body for a love as big as theirs. He wanted to show his soulbond to the world, hoping to find someone that shared it.

His mamma told him he couldn’t do that, however. She said the soulbond was meant to be something hidden, something just for him, right until he met the right girl. She told him he shouldn’t force it, the bond would bring him and his soulmate together, she was sure of it.

This naive happiness in the soulbond didn’t last.

The first crack in Isak’s naivety happened when Isak met Jonas. They were nine and Isak wanted so desperately for the boy to be his soulmate. He dreamt of holding Jonas’ hand, of sharing ice cream and popcorn. He even dreamt of kissing Jonas, although the mere thought made his cheeks warm.

Isak felt like the pull he felt towards the other boy could be nothing but the soulbond. His mamma had always spoken about a girl, but maybe...

So, he ignored his mother’s warnings and showed Jonas the tattoo blooming over his ribs.

Jonas had stared, open mouthed at the detailed drawing of the flower. “It’s beautiful,” he had whispered and Isak had felt pride before realisation struck, Jonas had never seen this tattoo before, so he could not have the same. They were not soulmates.

The realisation had hurt and Isak didn’t get it. He didn’t understand how he could feel so much for his best friend, when he was not his soulmate.

As Jonas marveled in Isak’s flower, Isak felt more confused with every passing second. Maybe his mamma was right, maybe only a girl could be his soulmate.

Isak had never seen anyone who shared a soulbond with someone of the same gender. His feelings for his best friend must be nothing more than friendship. Isak figured that maybe friendship could feel like true love.

“Do you want to see mine?” Jonas had asked him and Isak had nodded, curious about what symbol represented his friend’s soul.

Jonas had pulled down his sock, revealing what looked like an unfinished circle, drawn messily by hand on Jonas’ ankle. It was as if the God his mamma believed in, had put both his index fingers in paint before placing them on Jonas’s ankle and drawing a circle, starting from the top, running out of paint before he could connect it completely.

“What’s that?” Isak had asked him, and Jonas had shrugged.

“Mamma says it’s a zen sign,” Jonas answered. When Isak wrinkled his forehead in confusion, Jonas had shrugged again.

Neither of them had understood the meaning of their tattoos, Isak only knew that he found his a lot prettier than Jonas’, and although he was really sad that Jonas wasn’t his soulmate, he was ready to meet the person who did share the pretty flower with him.

The second crack in his naivety came about a month later. Isak and Jonas were playing in Jonas’ garden, kicking a football around and wrestling in the grass.

Jonas’ mother was gardening when Isak suddenly noticed her pulling out all the pretty flowers.

“What is she doing?” Isak asked his best friend.

Jonas looked from Isak to the pile of flowers next to his mother, “She’s pulling out the weeds.”

Isak looked confused, not understanding. “The flowers are dandelions, they’re weeds, my mom is pulling them so they don’t steal the rose bushes’ food,” Jonas explained, not noticing Isak’s growing distress, “Hey, but, don’t you have a dandelion on your ribs, Isak?” Jonas suddenly realised.

Isak paled, understanding seeping in slowly.

Jonas’ mother had explained to Jonas what his symbol meant, it stood for strength, creativity, elegance. When Jonas had told him that this was what his soulbond meant, Isak had nodded in understanding, these were all things Jonas embodied, even at an early age.

Isak, however… Isak has a weed on his ribs, a flower people desperately tried to get rid of in their gardens, annoyed every time it popped back up.

Jonas, unaware of how his simple explanation had set Isak’s whole world on it’s head, just went back to kicking around the football, leaving Isak to come to terms with what he now understood: his flower was not beautiful, it was a pest.

Three years later still, his mother’s health had rapidly deteriorated. His mamma could turn from a soft, loving person into someone full of spite in mere seconds.

Her moods switched so quickly and so violently, Isak didn’t know what was coming at any moment of the day. It made him twitchy, scared of his own shadow. He tried to take up the least amount of space possible, stopped trying to make his flower grow.

As her health got worse, so did her relationship with Isak’s pappa. They no longer shared soft morning kisses, instead spit harsh words at each other, Isak’s father running out of the house as fast as he could, leaving Isak scared and alone.

Isak knew his mamma still loved him, she was there in the tears after a bad episode, there in the hands stroking through his curls, but she was also full of anger now.

The bulk of that anger seemed to be directed at the soulbond.

One day, Isak’s mamma was sat at the kitchen table, staring at her soulbond, a small triskelion in vivid red on her wrist for the world to see. She used to never hide her bond, used to tell Isak that, the moment you find your soulmate, you want to show the beauty of the tattoo to the whole world.

Lately, however, she had been hiding the tattoo, wearing long sleeves or even the little sweatbands some unbonded people wear over their soulbonds.

“Mamma, are you okay?” Isak asked her, and her head wiped up, eyes unfocused and Isak knew that she was in a bad place right now.

“I never sensed his feelings, not once… I think I got rid of the wrong tattoo,” she said, and Isak’s forehead crinkled, unsure about what his mamma was saying, “Maybe… maybe he’s like them,” she said, pointing to the newspaper, lying open on an article Isak couldn’t read from where he was standing.

Suddenly she got up, walking to the kitchen drawer where they kept their knives.

“It will be okay,” she told Isak and the sudden clarity of her eyes and her voice surprised Isak. He stared at her as she grabbed a knife from the drawer and it was only as she starting bringing the knife back down, angled at the middle of the triskelion, Isak was spurred back into action.

He jumped forward, yelling for her to stop. He reached her on time to stop her from completely slitting her wrists, only leaving a minor cut, right through the middle.

Isak threw the knife far away from them and hugged his mamma to his tiny frame as she started sobbing.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening, I’m so sorry,” she repeated over and over until she cried herself to exhaustion, letting Isak help her to bed.

After he tucked her in, Isak made his way back downstairs, swallowing around the sadness and fear lodged in his throat.

He sat down at the table, and pulled the newspaper towards him, his eyes immediately falling on an article, heavily annotated with notes and pen circles by his mother’s hand.

As Isak read the article, he felt more and more anxious with every paragraph, finally understanding why his mamma had been so adamant of him hiding his soulbond. The article detailed a recent arrest of a guy who had seen his crush’s tattoo and after learning she didn’t want to date anyone who was not her soulmate, he had gone to an underground tattoo parlor, and paid heavily for someone to remake her tattoo onto him.

He had tricked her into believing he was her soulmate, and for years she had lived with the feeling that something was wrong in her life, that she didn’t love him like soulmates are supposed to love each other. She had struggled through life until it became too much, until she felt like there must be something wrong with her for not being as happy as she should be and she had taken her own life.

Isak read the article over and over, his mother’s words like a broken record running over and over in his head. Did his father do this? Is this why his mamma is ill?

When Isak confronted his father, he was furious, screamed at Isak until he was red in the face.

“I’m not the freak here, your mamma is. She’s the one with two tattoos, that’s why she’s sick, Isak! Never trust people with two tattoos!”

He slammed the door on his way out, and didn’t come back for days, leaving Isak to try and help his mamma through this episode.

Days later, when Marianne finally felt up to leaving bed again, Isak tentatively asked her about what his father had said. As her eyes filled with tears, Isak wanted to take it back, tell her she didn’t have to answer.

“No, Isak, you deserve to know. Maybe he’s right, maybe this is why I’m sick,” his mamma said, pulling Isak next to her on the couch, her hands carding through his curls.

She told him how some people get born with two soulbonds and no one knows why. No one understands how people could have two soulmates, and because there is such a big stigma around these people, most of them get rid of one. Isak’s mamma was one of those people.

She had gotten rid of the second tattoo right after meeting Isak’s father. She refused to tell Isak what the other tattoo was, begging him to never ask about it again.

So that was that, Isak’ last bit of naive hope in the sanctity of the soulbond ripped to shreds. By all accounts, this should’ve made Isak jaded, unwilling to believe in the possibility of the soulbond carrying a happy ending for him.

But for some reason, Isak never stopped hoping, never stopped marvelling at the details his soulbond carried, the veins in the leaves, the flower petals so realistic, even in black.

He can’t help but trace his soulbond when getting dressed. His finger gliding over the stem, the intricate details in the leaves, the flower petals in deep black. The tattoo feels alive, like he could pluck it of his ribs and hold the delicate flower in his hands.

He kept looking around, hoping and praying that one day he would see his soulbond mirrored on someone else.

*

He’s sitting in the library opposite of Sana, the two of them occupying a table of four, their books spread around them. The university had asked them to co-write an article on the scientific research on soulbonds to be published in the school newspaper.

Isak had first refused before Sana had dragged him in, “I can’t write it alone, and you’re not as much of an idiot as everyone else in our class,” she had said and how could Isak say no to so much flattery?

He groans as he thumbs through one of the books, searching for the source of something he had written down yesterday evening, thinking he wouldn’t forget where he got it from.

Sana rolls her eyes at him, “You know, if you just put everything in the bibliography _as_ you are writing, you wouldn’t lose so much time,” she says and Isak rolls his eyes at her so hard his head hurts.

She just rolls her eyes right back before resuming her typing.

Isak had just found his source, typing it into the file, when Sana’s phone alerts her of a message and she sighs so loudly the people at the other table look up.

“What’s up?” Isak asks, eyes still trained to the document, making sure he quotes his source correctly.

“My loser brother forgot his keys once again, and is now begging me to drop them off,” she says, furiously replying to his texts.

Isak laughs, he likes Elias, has met him in passing a couple of times before when studying at Sana’s place. “You know, I could use a cup of coffee. We could deliver the keys, get some coffee before we drown in research?” Isak suggests.

Sana sighs once more before typing something else into her phone, and it lights up quickly with four consecutive messages.

“He’s at the campus gym,” Sana says and Isak nods. They clear their table, leaving their books with the librarian who puts them on hold for them.

They walk to the gym, sharing their findings so far, an easy companionship between them. Before Isak can walk into the gym, however, Sana holds out her left hand to signal him to stop.

“Yousef is in there,” she says and Isak grins widely, “No, listen, this is why I’m stopping you. You are not allowed to act like an idiot around him, understand?” Sana fixes him with a look and Isak just smiles.

“Right, acting like an idiot is your job, considering he’s _your_ crush,” he says.

“Shut up,” Sana replies, sticking up her middle finger, her soulbond in full display, the Arabic lettering for the word “life”. Isak thinks it’s beautiful in it’s simplicity, tethering Sana to her roots in a soft way, the letters soft brown like the henna drawings on a bride’s hands. It’s gorgeous, just like her.

They walk in, Sana glaring at Isak once more when he giggles seeing Yousef wave enthusiastically.

Isak follows Sana to the group of boys in the back. She curtly introduces Isak to Adam, Mikael and Mutta, whom Isak had never met before.

They all smile widely at Isak, greeting him loudly and jovially.

Sana smiles her dimples at Yousef for a second before turning to Elias, calling him an idiot.

Elias shrugs and grins, “Sorry, sis, it won’t happen again.”

She rolls her eyes at him, and even Isak knows it’s an empty promise. Anyone who has met Elias knows he’s a mess.

“Oh, Sana, I forgot, I got you this book, you know... we were talking about it last time?” Yousef says, and Isak shares a smirk with Elias as Yousef blushes and Sana’s eyes lit up, looking at Yousef.

It’s when Yousef bends over, his loose tank top falling forward, putting his chest on display, Isak sees it, and judging by the gasp Sana lets out, she sees it as well.

Elias curses but can’t help his smile and the boy Sana introduced earlier as Adam laughs, “Bro…”

Yousef’s blush becomes even more pronounced as he straightens again, pushing his shirt close to his body, as if he can still hide the tattoo, soft brown, and graceful against his heart: the Arabic lettering for ‘life’.

“I have to go,” Sana says, shaking her head as if waking up out of a stupor, and she grabs Isak’s sleeve, starting to pull him outside.

“Sorry,” Isak mouths to Yousef who looks shaken to his core, his friends doubling over with laughter.

Sana pulls him swiftly through the door, only losing her grip when Isak bumps into someone else, blue eyes locking with his for a second before Isak apologizes and runs after Sana.

Isak can’t help but look over his shoulder as he reaches Sana, delighted when the tall stranger is looking back. The stranger sends him a rueful smile as he turns to walk into the gym and Isak silently curses Yousef for fucking up and possibly ruining his chance to talk to tall, not-so-dark, and handsome.

He can’t leave his friend right now, however. Sana is silent as she marches away from the gym, seemingly not really walking somewhere specific, as long as it puts a distance between herself and Yousef.

When they walk past the coffee shop, Isak gently steers Sana towards it, thinking they could both use a strong dose of caffeine to process what just happened.

“Coffee?” Isak asks Sana when they walk in, and Sana nods, for once foregoing her regular order of tea.

As Isak comes back, two steaming cups of coffee in his hands, Sana groans, her head buried in her hands, “What an idiot,” she mumbles to the tabletop and Isak snorts.

“Can’t disagree there,” he says.

Sana raises her head to gratefully take a sip of the coffee, her nose scrunching up when the coffee burns her tongue. She puts her cup back down, and absentmindedly traces the lines of her soulbond, “He knew, he must’ve known for years, and he didn’t say anything,” she looks at Isak and he feels her confusion and sadness like they are his own, “Why would he do that?”

Isak really wants to be there for his friend, he wants to give her solid advice, something that would make her less sad, but he’s so out of depth here. Sure, Isak had crushes before, even fell in love once, but that’s nothing compared to what Sana must be feeling right now.

He knows she’s been harboring a crush on Yousef since forever, but like him, Sana is secretly a romantic. Not only that, but Sana is also deeply religious and while Isak has completely broken all ties with religion, he knows all religious texts, including the Quran, dictate that you can only marry your true soulmate.

When Sana first confided in Isak she had a crush on Yousef, Isak had stupidly suggested to “go for it”. Sana had, rightfully, snapped at him that it wasn’t that easy.

Isak understood that now. Sana’s religion was an important part of her identity, a part she cherished. So, when Allah told her she wasn’t supposed to marry anyone that wasn't her true soulmate, Sana listened, respected and trusted the word of her God. She trusted that Allah would send her soulmate on her path when the time was right.

It’s a discussion Isak and Sana have had a dozen times before. Harsh and aggressive when Isak was still young and closeted, and understanding and respectful as they grew and became closer friends. How much of the soulbond is science, and how much is dictated by some mystical power some people call God?

Isak argues it’s purely science, hormones and DNA working together, energy and particles splitting to make two people born from one single natural element.

Sana argues it can be both, science and Allah, both nature and religion, one not needing to exclude the other.

“Do you think he…,” Sana pauses and Isak has never seen her this vulnerable, so he reaches out and takes her hand in his, she smiles at him before continuing, “Do you think he doesn’t want to be my soulmate? That he’s been rejecting the bond?”

Isak knows what she’s talking about, it’s part of their research after all. Sometimes, in very rare cases, people will reject the soulbond, do everything in their power to get rid of it. This mostly happens in same sex bonds where one or both of the soulmates is closeted or experiencing internalised homophobia. Though, there are also instances of this happening in heterosexual soulbonds, for reasons varying from trauma to, and this is likely what Sana is thinking about, religious conflict.

However, Isak knows with all his heart this is not the case. He knows Yousef loves Sana, it’s abundantly clear in his eyes every time he sneaks a look at her, the longing and the adoration clear for the world to see.

Isak squeezes Sana’s hand in his, “He loves you, Sana. I don’t know why he hid the bond, but he does. Everyone knows he does.”

Sana looks up into his eyes, searching them for a lie. When she doesn’t find one, she nods, pulls her hand out of Isak’s grip and furiously wipes under her eyes, getting rid of all signs of sadness.

She reminds Isak of himself. How they both pretend to be tough and harsh, but in reality just desperately long for love.

“I’m going to beat his ass,” she says, sounding more like herself again.

Isak laughs, not doubting Sana’s words and already feeling sorry for Yousef.

They’re quiet for a moment, just sipping their coffee.

Isak is sure Sana and Yousef will work it out. He figures it was fear more than anything that made Yousef hide their soulbond. A part of him wonders if it does have anything to do with Yousef breaking off from his faith, but not in the sense Sana is thinking.

He figures it’s more likely that Yousef thought _Sana_ would reject the soulbond, knowing that Yousef doesn’t share her faith anymore.

Watching Sana deep in thought, eyes sad and withdrawn, Isak can’t help but find Yousef to be the dumbest boy he ever met. Everyone could see how Sana adores Yousef, even when she tried to keep a distance.

Isak remembers Sana’s fear and sadness when she had seen Yousef with another girl, worried he had found his soulmate in someone else.

Whatever happens next, Isak knows they’ll figure this out.

Although he’s genuinely concerned about Sana, he spares a thought for the boy he saw at the gym, and the way his heart skipped a beat when they locked eyes. He only saw him for a moment, but the boy was so beautiful, Isak just feels an intense need to see him again, to know him.

He startles when Sana starts to speak again, “What do you think is the scientific benefit of soulmates?” she asks and Isak smiles.

They’ve asked each other this same question since they were seventeen. Isak firmly believes their debates about soulmates are what made them choose this speciality at university.

“To give awkward idiots like Yousef that extra push to chase the girl of their dreams,” Isak says and Sana laughs, rolling her eyes at him before getting serious again.

“Math says that meeting your soulmate should be close to impossible. Mathematically, in only one lifetime in about 10.000 you’d be able to find your soulmate,” Sana says, her brow creased and Isak understands she needs this. She needs facts and figures to try and make sense of her feelings. Another way in which they are eerily similar.

“Okay, but that’s theoretical math. In practise we see that about eighty percent of the population finds their soulmate by age fifty. The remaining twenty percent that doesn’t either has a dead or an ill soulmate, or decided for whatever reason to not end up with their soulmate.”

Sana replies, “So, while by all accounts soulmates should be a scientific impossibility, they’re a reality for most of the population. Something, be it nature or Allah, brings us together.”

Isak nods, thinking, “It’s not unreasonable to believe that the parts of the particle that make up the whole soul of the soulmates, isn’t able to travel very far.”

“How then, do we explain the age gap between some soulmates? Does the particle just exist, waiting?” Sana asks.

Isak bites his lip, getting stuck. There are a number of explanations for this, but nothing so far has convinced either Isak or Sana.

Sana grins, knowing science doesn’t have all the answers, _yet_. Isak rolls his eyes at her, acknowledging his defeat, at least for now.

“So, what is the scientific benefit of soulmates?” Isak asks Sana.

She laughs, “To bring about the strongest offspring possible.”

Isak grins, raises his cup of, by now, cold coffee to clink to hers.

They fall back into silence, but it’s lighter now, like a weight has been lifted of Sana’s shoulders, like maybe she made a decision.

Sana’s phone lights up with a message.

Isak watches her look at it and sigh before putting her phone in her pocket.

“Was that Yousef?” Isak asks, not able to stop himself from prying.

“No, just the other idiot, my brother, asking when I’ll be home,” she looks apologetically at Isak, “Do you mind if we cut our study date short here? I just think I’m not up to research right now, and Elias has a lot of explaining to do.”

Isak shakes his head, “No, Sana, of course I don’t mind. Text me when you want to reschedule.”

She smiles gratefully, “Thanks Isabel.”

“No problem, Sanasol.”

*

Later that night, Isak is sitting on Jonas’ couch, the game of FIFA long forgotten and pizza getting cold on the coffee table.

“So, they’re definitely soulmates?” Jonas asks him.

Isak nods, “I only saw the tattoo for a second, but judging by the reactions of everyone else, I would say they definitely are.”

Jonas makes a low hissing sound like he’s sorry for Sana, a feeling Isak does not share at all.

“I think they’ll work it out,” Isak can’t help but feel a little defensive in Sana’s stead.

His best friend just looks at him before shrugging, “I don’t understand how you can still believe in the ‘sacred bond of the soul’ after what happened to your parents,” he says, making air quotes.

Isak knows Jonas doesn’t mean to be harsh, but his words hurt. “They’re still together,” Isak mumbles, and even he hears how weak his words sound in his own ears.

Jonas sighs, patting Isak’s knee, “I’m sorry, Is, I shouldn’t have mentioned them. I just… don’t really understand I guess.”

Looking up in his best friend’s eyes, Isak nods, he doesn’t particularly understand either. It’s true his parents are still together, his father making sure his mamma takes her meds and goes to therapy, but this all has less to do with love than with the fact that leaving your soulmate is the ultimate taboo in their society.

Isak also understands why Jonas doesn’t like the idea of soulmates after what happened to him and Eva. He loved Eva so much, and she loved him. Isak had truly felt like they might be the exception, staying together, even when they didn’t share a soulbond.

For a while, Eva had felt the same way. And then she met Noora.

The break up had been messy and painful. Isak had felt torn between seeing his best friend in so much pain, and his understanding of why Eva would choose to pursue her soulmate.

Even now, a year later, Jonas still looked away when Eva and Noora kissed, drank too much when they were at parties together and scoffed at the mere mention of soulmates.

“It just makes me wonder, you know, how much of this is still us making our own choices,” Jonas brings up a point he’s been bringing up for a while now. “Sana was in love with a guy, and now that guy turns out to be her soulmate. Did she choose this crush herself? Or is the soulbond the thing controlling our emotions?”

Isak sighs, readying himself to have this conversation with Jonas for what feels like the millionth time. “We both fell in love before, Jonas, and those people weren’t our soulmates.”

“You fell in love with Chris thinking he was your soulmate, though. You let him string you on for months because you saw a flower stem and thought it might the same as yours.”

It’s true. Isak had felt a physical attraction to Chris before, but the moment he had seen the stem was the moment he had decided to risk everything and go after him. It was also the moment he gave up trying to pretend to look for a soulmate in a girl and admit to himself he was gay.

He couldn’t really blame Chris for what happened after, the heartbreak and the painful coming out. Isak doesn’t think Chris ever knew about him thinking they were soulmates.

In hindsight, Isak wonders how he could ever think such a thing. Then again, hindsight is 20/20 and all that.

“What about you and Eva?” Isak asks.

Jonas pulls a face, “We had a perfect relationship, but she left me for her soulmate, Isak. I’m not sure how that’s even an argument.”

Isak laughs, figuring Jonas is right.

“I’m just saying, is there such a thing as free will for us? Are we so underdeveloped as humans that we can’t even choose our own partner? Instead our biology chooses for us,” Jonas breathes in deeply, “Listen, I know you think this is bullshit, but I read this theory that said that it’s not biology at all, that it’s government controlled, -”

Jonas stops talking when he sees Isak rolling his eyes, “You need to smoke less weed, Jonas. You’re turning into a conspiracy theorist.”

His best friend huffs a laugh and shrugs, “I’m just saying, that would be a perfect way to control your population.”

“How do you figure they do that? Steal babies to put tattoos on them?” Isak counters and rolls his eyes when Jonas just shrugs, “Also, how would that explain the pull soulmates feel?” Jonas opens his mouth to answer, and Isak raises his hand, “Don’t say placebo effect. They did blind trials with soulmates and found that they could always pick out behind which door their soulmate was, even when they had never met before.”

Jonas grumbles something about a worldwide cover up, making Isak laugh.

“I’ll be sure to mention all your valid concerns in the paper Sana and I are writing,” Isak grins.

Jonas huffs, “Fine, let’s just play some more.”

He picks the controller back up, and Isak follows suit.

Isak resumes playing, but his mind is elsewhere. He can’t deny how Jonas’ words mess with his mind and his ideas of the soulbond.

If we can’t control who our soulmates are, are they as romantic as Isak wants them to be?

Sana got lucky, she fell for the right person right from the start. Eva had a rockier start, but Isak knows how happy she is to have Noora by her side now.

On the other side of that coin, there’s Jonas, still heartbroken. He didn’t do anything wrong, it wasn’t like they fell out of love. He just has the wrong tattoo.

There’s also his mom, tied to a soulbond with a man that doesn’t love her, forever left to wonder if she got rid of the wrong tattoo.

Maybe Jonas is right, maybe they are glorified animals, tied to their instincts, but with the added bonus of having heightened emotions.

Would their lives be easier or harder if they could choose their partners at random? If they could date whomever, without having the idea of a soulmate hanging above their heads, putting an end date on all non-soulmate relationships?

Is this loss of free will a good thing or a bad thing?

Jonas crows, having been able to score a goal while Isak was lost in his own thoughts.

Isak rolls his eyes at him, calls him an idiot and pushes the thoughts aside, throwing himself fully into the game.

*

“I’m just saying, she must be my soulmate,” Magnus half-shouts, already three beers in and eyeing Vilde from across the room, “She’s so beautiful.”

Mahdi snorts, “Reason number one why she could never be your soulmate.”

“I resent that,” Magnus turns to Mahdi, eyes wide.

“You can’t think she’s your soulmate just because she’s pretty, that’s bullshit,” Jonas raises his eyebrows, eyes glazed over and red from the combination of beer and weed.

“No… No, she’s also funny and sweet and she likes me!”

Isak rolls his eyes at his friends, far too sober for this bullshit, but he’s also too lazy to get up and search for another beer.

“Magnus, not to burst your bubble,” Isak says, bursting Magnus’ bubble, “but you whip off your shirt every time you get drunk. If she had the same soulbond, don’t you think she would’ve told you already?”

Magnus just gapes at him, watery eyed, “I guess, yeah,” he mumbles.

Isak would feel sorry for him if Magnus didn’t claim another girl for a soulmate every month. Eva also might’ve told him Vilde really likes Magnus, just not _like that_. She doesn’t like any guy like that.

He would never tell Magnus that, however. As long as Vilde is not ready to come out to the boys, Isak will keep her secret. He knows how it feels to be dragged out of the closet kicking and screaming, he’s not willing to do that to someone else.

“You know what I should do?” Magnus shouts, already over his apparent heartbreak, “I should make a profile on one of those dating websites!”

The boys groan all at once.

“What? You pay a monthly fee and send in a picture of your soulbond and they don’t publish it, but try to find the correct match!”

Isak had heard of these websites, some of them posted HD pictures of the soulbond, giving others the opportunity to scam their way into a relationship with someone. It was dangerous and stupid and should only be the last resort, for truly desperate people.

“Mags, seriously, you’re too desperate. You’re not even thirty yet!” Mahdi laughs.

Magnus shrugs and starts in on another rant, but Isak tunes him out, attention drawn by the group of boys walking through the door.

He first notices Elias and Yousef, and when the two boys notice him back, they enthusiastically wave. Isak laughs and waves back, when he suddenly notices the boy.

It’s the boy he had seen at the gym.

He stares at him for a beat too long, the intensity of his stare making the boy turn around and look at him. Isak gulps and looks down, his ears burning with embarrassment.

When he looks back up, the group of boys have walked further into the room. Yousef is throwing looks at Sana who is in a heated discussion with her brother.

Isak laughs when he sees Elias raising both hands, trying to placate Sana.

“Wouldn’t want to be him right now,” a deep voice next to him says.

Isak whips his head around and looks straight in the deep blue eyes of the boy. He gapes, unable to form words.

The boy smiles, holds out his hand, “Even,” he says.

Isak looks down, notices the band around Even’s wrist, hiding what Isak assumes is his soulbond. He waits too long, making him look like he’s never shaken hands before in his life.

“Uhm, so, yeah…” Even trails off, beginning to withdraw his hand.

“Isak!” Isak almost yells, grasping onto Even’s hand, praying his isn’t clammy, “My name is Isak.”

Even smirks. “Nice to meet you, Isak. Wanna get out of here?”

Isak’s mouth runs dry, his mind conjuring the dirtiest thoughts before he notices Even waving the joint around.

“Outside, you mean, let’s go outside,” Isak dumbly says.

Even laughs delighted, raising his eyebrows, “The night is still young, Isak, who knows what it will bring.”

He winks, before starting to walk backwards, only turning around right before he almost walks into someone.

Isak is impressed, and also very turned on.

He follows Even outside and joins him on the slightly damp wood of the porch.

Even curses when he can’t light the joint on the first try. He hisses a low “yes” when the lighter produces a steady flame and he inhales deeply before passing the joint over to Isak.

“Thanks,” Isak says on the exhale.

He passes it back over and watches Even’s lips around the joint. They look soft and full, even when chapped, and Isak feels the intense need to kiss him.

“So, you know Sana?” Even shakes him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, we were both in Nissen and now we’re working on an essay on the scientific studies and recent developments of soulbonds together,” Isak explains.

Even whistles low, “Wow, so you’re a genius!” Isak blushes, eyes trained on his shoes, “Will you publish the essay?”

“That’s the goal. It’s commissioned by the university, so unless we fuck up, it’ll get published.”

“I’m not sure I’ll understand it, I’m not nearly as smart as you guys, but be sure to send it over when it’s done. I’d love to read all about the science behind soulbonds.”

Isak huffs a laugh.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend to find it interesting. Most people don’t care how it works, as long as they find their soulmate.’

“Mhm, I guess that’s true for most people. I’m interested, though. Tell me about your research.”

Isak looks up into Even’s eyes and finds only genuine interest there.

“Well, we’re looking into a couple of things, but personally I find it fascinating to look at the different ways the soulbond manifests in someone.”

“Don’t we all experience it the same way? The pull, and then you get married and have babies,” Even says, smile on his face.

Isak laughs at his simplistic way of explaining the soulbond, “I mean, yeah, in a way. But did you know some people even feel like they can sense their soulmates feelings and emotions? It’s rare but it happens. Also, everyone talks about the pull, but we aren’t able to really define it. People fall in love or have crushes outside of their soulbond, some even think they _are_ experiencing the pull, but instead it’s like this... other version of the pull.”

Even watches Isak, seemingly genuinely interested in what Isak has to say. Isak should maybe feel weird, talking about the intricacies of soulmates with someone he just met, but instead he gets pulled in by Even’s eyes on him, finds none of his usual nerves when he talks about his research.

Even inhales and exhales, the smoke billowing around his head, and then nods, “Do you think those other versions are lesser?”

Isak bites his lip, thinking. He buys himself some time by taking the joint from Even, inhaling.

“I think…,” he exhales, handing Even the joint back, “I think there’s nothing wrong with those kinds of relationships, but everyone will ultimately leave non-soulmates for their soulmate.”

“Don’t you think that’s kind of fucked up? We never really try to see if it could work with anyone but our soulmate. We put an end date on the relationship before it’s even begun, dooming the relationship from the start,” Even says.

Isak is reminded of Jonas, and his crusade against the soulbond. He wonders if Even’s point of view is coming from the same place of heartbreak.

“What makes people soulmates to begin with?” Even continues, “What part of our biology matches?”

“Well, that relates to the soul question, yeah?” Even raises his eyebrows in confusion, “We’re still not sure what the soul is made of. According to religion, it’s the word of God. According to science, the soul is the formal dimension, residing in the material dimension. The material dimension being our body, the atoms and cells making up what you can see and touch. The formal dimension, is what makes up our identity. It’s what makes me different from you. Now, we can’t really see the soul, we can only theorize what it’s made up of. The most recent theory suggests particles of existence, energy and atoms. Soulmates are made up of that same energy, that same formal dimension, settled into two different material dimensions. It’s like Aristotle said: love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies. So it’s not really biology that makes us soulmates, but chemistry and physics.”

It’s quiet for a heartbeat, Even’s eyes on him, small smile on his face, “I wasn’t exaggerating when I called you a genius, huh?”

Isak blushes again, “It’s nothing special, I haven’t made any scientific discoveries myself. I’m only saying what’s been said before.”

“Still, I never thought I could be this interested in science.”

Isak laughs, shy under Even’s praise.

“What about you? Are you at university?” Isak asks Even, when the other boy’s heated look becomes almost too much.

Even grins. “I am,” he says and shrugs, “It’s nothing nearly as brilliant as what you’re doing though. I’m a media student, third year.”

“Media student? So, making movies?” Isak asks, feeling silly for not knowing.

Even shakes his head, licks his lips almost unconsciously. “More like, studying movies and other media. How does a soundtrack change a scene? Do the journalist’s clothes affect how the public receives the message? Things like that.”

“Oh,” Isak says, pauses.

“You’re wondering what the fuck I’m going to do with that degree?” Even says, smiling widely.

Isak blushes, “I didn’t mean anything by it, I just…” He bites his lip, lost for words, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry, I get it,” Even says, placing a hand on Isak’s knee. “I want to be a director, but art school is… competitive,” he explains.

“So you’re getting all the theory first, before you implement that in your own movies,” Isak guesses, and Even shrugs. “That’s smart.”

Even ducks his head, smiles pleased. “Let’s hope so.”

From there on their conversation flows easily and they finish the joint while talking about music, movies, and friends.

Even makes fun of Isak’s love of action movies, Isak calls Even a sap for liking dramatic romances.

Isak has never felt this comfortable with someone outside of his group of friends. He feels like he could tell Even everything and the other boy would never judge him.

As the night progresses, they move closer to each other, ending with their thighs pressed up against each other, hands bumping as they talk.

Even’s eyes never leave Isak’s face, making him giddy and proud to be in the center of the beautiful boy’s attention.

When Even fishes a second joint out of his pocket, Isak grins. He knows he shouldn’t, but the presence of Even, so close to him is making him light headed and prone to making stupid decisions.

They’re quiet for a while, passing the joint over and just staring at one another.

Even’s eyes on him almost burn, setting Isak aflame.

“Tell me something else, something you’d like to research.”

They lock eyes, and it’s like electricity sparks between them.

“The multiverse theory,” Isak almost whispers.

Even gestures for him to go on, so Isak does. “It says that there are an infinite number of universes to correlate with an infinite number of possibilities. Anything and everything you can think of is happening within another universe.”

“So, there’s a universe out there without soulmates? Where this,” Even tilts his wrist, with his hidden tattoo, up, “doesn’t dictate who gets to love who?”

Isak nods. He hears the hurt in Even’s words, wonders about the story behind it but knows better than to ask.

Even looks at him, and slowly the hurt makes place for lust. Even’s pupils are blown, the blue of his eyes hidden behind it.

There’s a longing, low in Isak’s stomach. He wants to kiss Even, he wants to make him his. It’s ridiculous and the weed is probably getting to Isak, but he just wants.

He wants Even like he’s never wanted anyone before.

If he didn’t know any better, he would think this could be the pull.

But he knows it can’t be. It’s impossible that someone like Even, beautiful, smart, talented, funny Even, shares his soulbond. He doesn’t need to see the tattoo hidden on his wrist to know it’s not a weed.

Even’s soulbond will be beautiful, in vivid colours, representing the beauty that is his soul.

This knowledge doesn’t take away the fact that Isak wants to kiss him so badly it’s painful.

So, when Even leans forward and whispers “fuck soulmates,” before capturing Isak’s lips in a bruising kiss, Isak can’t help but agree.

He kisses back with as much passion as he can muster, climbing into Even’s lap and pulling at his hair to angle the kiss.

Even moans into Isak’s mouth, grabbing his ass to pull him closer.

“Isak,” he whimpers against Isak’s mouth before tipping his head backwards and giving Isak access to his neck.

Isak nips and sucks, claiming Even, wishing against his better judgement the tattoo on Even’s body marked him as Isak’s as well.  

“Come home with me,” Even says, his voice low, sending all of Isak’s blood lower.

Before he can agree, however, the door opens and Sana sticks out her head.

“Isak,” she says, unfazed by the scene in front of her, “I can’t find either Mahdi or Jonas, but you need to take Magnus home, he’s wasted and walking around with his shirt off… again.”

“I’m kinda busy,” Isak says, head angled to Even.

Even laughs as Sana rolls her eyes, “Come get him Isak.”

She slams the door as she goes back inside and Isak sighs, dropping his head onto Even’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, but I should go deal with that,” he says.

Even hums, kissing the side of Isak’s face, “That’s okay.”

Isak climbs off of Even’s lap and tries to subtly adjust himself in his pants, but judging by the smirk Even throws his way, he doesn’t really succeed.

Even gives Isak his phone number and they kiss again, soft and lingering, like a promise.

“Go, save your friend,” Even mumbles against Isak’s lips.

Isak groans softly before pressing one last kiss to Even’s lips and going inside to pick up Magnus.

By the time he arrives, Sana has found Jonas and Mahdi and the three of them help get Magnus home.

As he lays in his bed, staring at the single heart Even programmed behind his own name, Isak feels equal amounts of regret and relief they didn’t sleep together.

Isak knows Even is a romantic, and although he seemed to share a lot of ideas with Jonas, Isak isn’t too sure Even would truly date someone that isn’t his soulmate.

The longer Isak can hold off showing his soulmark, the longer he’ll get to keep Even.

*

When he wakes up the next morning, there’s a light pounding behind his eyes and Jonas’ snores next to him.

Isak crawls out of bed as quietly as possible; trying to not wake his best friend.

“Good morning, baby gay,” Eskild greets him when he enters the kitchen.

Isak refrains from rolling his eyes, if only for the fact that Eskild hands him a cup of coffee.

“Meet anyone hot yesterday?” Eskild asks, wide grin on his face.

“No,” Isak says, his blush giving him away.

“That doesn’t look like a no,” Eskild pokes Isak’s warm cheeks.

The younger boy bats his hands away and scowls, “It’s nothing!”

When Eskild raises his eyebrows, Isak continues reluctantly, “We just kissed, nothing more.”

Eskild’s face softens, “Do you think…” his fingers trace his own soulbond absentmindedly.

The first time Isak met Eskild, when he decided to move out before going to university, he had stared at Eskild’s tattoo. The subtle three lines representing harmony, stood in a stark contrast to Eskild’s brash personality. It was only later that Isak realised that Eskild’s personality was more than what he projected into the world. More than the flamboyant, loud man he pretended to be all the time.

Now, as Eskild looks at him, soft concern in his eyes, Isak sees how the tattoo represents him perfectly.

“I don’t think so, Eskild. He’s too... good.”

Eskild sighs and pulls Isak into a hug, “I wish you’d stop thinking that,” he says and Isak swallows around the lump in his throat.

“You’re the bees knees, Isak, how else could you have seduced someone like me to be your guru?”

Isak huffs a laugh, pushes Eskild away. They grin at each other, the love clear without either of them having to say it out loud.

They’re interrupted by Jonas padding into the kitchen.

He looks even worse than Isak, squinting against the sunlight and almost moaning out of satisfaction when Eskild hands him a cup of coffee as well.

“You’re the best,” he says, taking a big gulp.

Eskild laughs, “I know! I should get going, though, study date!” he winks at Isak, “Don’t forget it’s your turn to do the dishes and please, if you could clean your room, that would be amazing!”

“Sure,” Isak says and Eskild tuts at him, patting the top of his head.

“Bonsoir, mes petits,” Eskild shouts before leaving the kitchen.

Jonas flinches, “Does he know that means good night?”

“Don’t think he cares,” Isak says, laughing.

They’re quiet for a bit, sipping their coffees, each lost in their own thoughts, when Isak’s phone alerts him of a message.

**Even 11:14**

_I know I gave you my phone number and that means I have to wait for you to text first, but I couldn’t so I asked Sana for your number. I now owe her… It’s kind of scary but I think you’re worth it_

Isak reads the message twice, smile on his face.

“Do you think you could ever date someone who’s not your soulmate? I don’t mean fuck them, I know you’ve done that. I meant start an actual, lasting relationship with them,” Jonas breaks the silence.

Isak’s head whips up, thinking Jonas must have read his message, but instead Jonas is focused on something on his own phone, forehead creased, shoulders hunched.

“I don’t know,” Isak answers truthfully. He looks back at his phone, at the heart next to Even’s name. “I guess… You never know.”

Jonas sighs.

“Are you asking about me? Or did you meet someone?” Isak asks him.

His best friend finally raises his head to look at him, “I met someone.”

“You want to talk about her?”

“They’re amazing, Isak. Beautiful, funny, smart…”

Isak hears the change of pronoun, but doesn’t comment on it, accepts this as easily as Jonas did, so many years back.

“Are they your soulmate?” Isak asks.

Jonas shrugs, “Does it matter?”

Isak mimics his shrug, “I just figured… since you asked.”

His best friend looks up, “What if they’re not? What if they leave me because they aren’t my soulmate?”

Isak opens and closes his mouth, only coming up with empty phrases of comfort. How can he comfort Jonas when he’s afraid of the very same thing? When the thought of losing Even before he even got him almost physically hurts?

“What have you got to lose?” Isak asks his best friend, as much as himself. “Fuck soulmates, right?” he adds, remembering the words Even spoke before kissing him.

Jonas smiles, “You’re right… Yeah, you’re right!” he grabs his phone and starts typing a message, a smile blossoming on his face when he receives a response not 30 seconds later.

“I have to go,” he says, the smile on his face so wide Isak fears his face might split in two.

“Yeah, sure, go,” Isak says, waving Jonas away.

Jonas smacks a kiss on his cheek, ignoring the sound of protest Isak makes and hurries out of the apartment, leaving Isak to stare at his own phone.

What has he got to lose? His heart? He suspects he lost that the moment he laid eyes on Even.

**To Even 11:21**

_Taking desperate to a new level, I see_

**Even 11:21**

_Only for you, babe ;)_

Even is going to be the death of him, Isak is sure of it.

*

A few hours later, Isak finds himself at Sana’s kitchen table. She had texted him to invite him over for lunch and to resume their study date.

After a wonderful meal prepared by mamma Bakkoush, Isak is bent over his laptop, trying to make sense of Lacan’s theory of sexual difference and its effect on the soulbond, rolling his eyes at the man’s love for making even the simplest things hard.

“Sana,” he whines, making her look up from her own screen, “Tell me again who died and made this old drag king of psychoanalysis?”

Sana laughs, “I’d guess Freud.”

Isak grins, “Ah, old, white men and their obsession with dicks.”

The laugh Sana snorts is by no means attractive but it’s more carefree than Isak has seen from her in a while.

“So, how are things with you and Yousef?” Isak asks, leaning backwards in his chair.

Sana narrows her eyes at him, “You just want to stop reading Lacan.”

Isak gasps in mock shock. “I’m genuinely interested, Sana, you wound me!” When she just glares at him, Isak laughs, “Okay, fine, I want to stop reading about Lacan, but I’m also very much interested in what’s going on with you and Yousef.”

Sana resists for just a second more, before a smile blooms around her lips. “We talked,” she says, and blushes prettily. “We have so much more to talk about, and issues to work through,” her smile falters for just a second, before coming back, “but we realised that we… love each other,” she almost whispers those last three words, as if speaking them out loud could make them lose their power.

“I’m happy for you, Sanasol,” Isak smiles and her answering smile is wide and grateful, “and I know I’m maybe not the right person to talk to about religion, but I’ve seen how you two look at each other. You’ll figure it out.”

They share a look of understanding between them. They might not agree on everything, but they do get each other, value each other’s opinion, more than they would ever voice aloud.

“So, does it feel different? Now that you know you’re soulbonded?” Isak questions, trying to lighten the mood somewhat.

Sana shrugs, dusting off her screen absentmindedly, “Not really, not yet. I mean, it’s nice to know where the pull came from, you know? To realise it was more than a crush, it was true love,” the soft smile comes back as she speaks and Isak feels a pang in his heart.

It’s a gentle jealousy, the one where you’re incredibly happy for someone, but you also wish with all your heart it could be you.

“Do you think you’ll be able to sense each other’s feelings?” he asks, knowing that, like him, Sana has always been fascinated by that side of the soulbond.

Sana’s blush blossoms high on her cheeks, “I don’t know,” she says, but Isak hears the longing in her voice.

“I’m sure you will. If anyone will, it’ll be you two,” he says, and he means it, truly believes in the power of Sana and Yousef’s love.

The dimples in Sana’s cheeks appear and Isak smiles at her, counting himself lucky he was assigned as her biology partner so many years ago.

“The boys will be here any minute,” Elias suddenly says, popping his head into the kitchen.

Sana’s soft smile turns shrewd as she looks from Elias to Isak, “All of the boys?” she asks and Isak really has to stop himself from throwing a pen at her head.

Elias pretends to look confused, “Yeah, your boyfriend is coming too,” he says.

Isak laughs as Sana glares at her brother and doesn’t stop herself from throwing a pen at his head. Elias shoots Isak a wink before escaping from the kitchen, making Isak laugh and Sana roll her eyes.

“Anyway,” Sana says, turning back to Isak and he holds his breath when he sees the look on her face, “Even is coming too.”

“So?” Isak says, trying but failing not to blush.

“So, if I remember correctly, last time you saw him, you were sitting on his lap, getting to know him… very intimately.”

Isak snorts, “Oh yeah, don’t think I’ve forgiven you for interrupting us.”

“Do you think-” she starts, but Isak shakes his head before she can finish her sentence.

“No, Sana, he can’t be.”

“Why not?” she cocks her head, genuinely confused.

“It’s just not possible, his bond can’t be a damn… weed,” Isak says, voice strangled.

“It’s not a weed, Isak,” her voice is soft, caring.

Isak had told her about his soulbond, years ago, after the whole fiasco with Chris. He’d been drunk and heartbroken at the time, but he didn’t regret telling Sana about his soulbond. Besides Jonas, there was no one he trusted more with the knowledge.

“I think you’d be good for each other,” she adds. Isak looks up at her, shrugs, “Give him a chance, Isak. Give yourself a chance.”

Before Isak can answer her, however, six boys enter the kitchen in a flurry of voices and laughter.

Yousef spots them first, going suddenly still, his eyes drawn to Sana like they’re magnets. Their smiles are so soft, Isak almost feels like he’s intruding on something private.

When he looks away from them, he looks right into Even’s eyes, and his heart skips a beat when a smile appears on Even’s face.

“Hello,” Even says, almost shy, and Mikael snorts, grinning.

“Hello,” Isak responds.

Before they can say more, however, Elias loudly clears his throat, “Okay, lovebirds, we’re here to work, not to gawk!”

Even laughs, “I’ll see you later?” it comes out as a question, and Isak nods, smiling when Even looks relieved.

“Whipped,” Mikael stage-whispers.

Adam snorts, “You’re one to talk.” Mikael shrugs, like they don’t disagree but don’t care either way.

Elias herds them all out of the kitchen, his and Mutta’s arms full of snacks and drinks.

“Bye,” Yousef tells Sana, making her blush.

It’s quiet in the kitchen before: “Fine.”

Sana turns to Isak, question in her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll give it a chance,” Isak says and the responding smile on Sana’s face is so smug Isak rolls his eyes at her. “If this all goes to hell and I get my heart broken, you’re getting me those almond cookies your mom made for lunch last time.”

She laughs, “Deal.”

They get back to work, the only sounds in the kitchen coming from their typing and Isak’s sighs of frustration when Lacan goes on yet another almost incomprehensible tangent.

Isak is almost ready to give up when Even walks back into the kitchen, reaching into the cabinet for a glass and filling it with tap water.

He leans against the counter, long legs stretched in front of him, his throat on display as he drinks from the glass. When he turns his head to fill the glass again, Isak sees the red mark _he_ left there, stark red against Even’s milky white skin. It takes every ounce of willpower not to whimper at the sight, or worse, to get up and get right back to where they left things off yesterday.

Isak sneaks a look at Sana and almost groans when he sees her sly smile. He knows he’s being awfully obvious but how can he not, when the most beautiful boy Isak has ever seen is standing so close, obviously putting on a show for him?

“So, what are you working on?” Even asks, after emptying his second glass of water, his mouth slightly wet, and Isak wants to lick it.

“Penis theory,” Isak blurts out, which is technically not incorrect but also not at all what he wanted to say.

Sana snorts as Even’s mouth drops open, “Penis... theory?”

Isak blushes, “I mean, it’s not… It’s Lacan’s theory of the phallus and how every soulbond has a phallic person and a castrated person,” he tries to explain, but Even just looks more confused with every word he says. Isak looks at Sana, begging for her help and luckily she takes pity on him.

“It’s psychology, based on the power of the non-literal penis. Just a bunch of dudes obsessed with dicks.”

“You need it for your research?” Even asks Isak.

“Yes, sadly enough,” Isak says, taking a drink himself, to try and hide his blush.

“You need penis theory for your research,” Even repeats, a teasing lilt in his voice, and Isak raises his eyebrows over his glass, “I mean, there are other ways to study the penis than through books.”

Isak almost chokes on his water, sputtering and coughing while Even just grins at him, mischief in his eyes.

He’s about to say something else when they hear Elias calling for Even from the other room.

“Sorry, duty calls,” Even says and he really looks like he’s sorry. Isak watches him leave the kitchen, his eyes trailing Even’s body.

“Don’t,” Isak warns Sana, after Even has turned the corner, and she shrugs innocently, amusement clear on her face.

About fifteen minutes later, they hear Adam yell, “No one can be that thirsty!” right before Even walks into the kitchen again.

He fills his glass once more, lingers in the doorway, eyes on Isak.

Isak feels his gaze like it’s a touch, and he can’t help but look up slightly, looking at Even from under his eyelashes. Even looks back at him, a look in his eyes Isak can’t begin to interpret, before he turns away once more and walks out.

No more than five minutes later Isak hears Elias groan out Even’s name, irritation clear in his voice, “I’m giving up, I can’t work with you guys,” he says.

“What did I do?” Yousef’s voice sounds and Elias’ “You know what you did!” makes the other boys laugh.

Even walks into the kitchen for the third time, Yousef closely behind him, “We’re done for today,” he says, grin on his face.

Isak nods, “So I heard.”

“I was thinking of going for coffee,” Even says, the invitation clear.

Isak looks at Sana, wanting to ask her if she’s okay with ending their study date, but when he sees the way Sana is looking at Yousef, he figures she’s more than okay with it.

“Coffee sounds good.” He packs up his stuff, quickly bending down to kiss Sana’s cheek before following Even out of the house.

*

The coffeeshop is cozy and warm with soft acoustic music playing through the speakers. Somewhere in the back of Isak’s mind he thinks he should tell Jonas about this place, he would love it, but the bulk of his attention is focused on Even.

And on Even’s long fingers curled around the coffee cup, taking tentative sips.

“What were you working on, before?” Isak asks, trying to distract himself from the sinful thoughts.

“We have a youtube channel,” Even explains, smiling, “It’s a mess of vlogs, stupid pranks and short movies. It’s a lot of fun.”

“Oh, cool,” Isak says dumbly, and Even grins as if he knows what Isak is really thinking of. “What’s your favorite part to make?” Isak asks after a beat too long.

Even’s face lights up, “The short films, definitely! The rest is a lot of fun, but I feel most at home making the short films. They give me the space to really experiment, you know? The things I learn in class are really rigid. They’re dry theory, things other people already did, and on the youtube channel I can just do what I want, implement what I learned however I want to. The story can be as silly or as poetic or dramatic as I want,” he explains, hands flying around while he talks.

Isak watches him, the happiness on his face, and falls deeper.

“Sometimes I feel all these things at the same time, and it’s so hard to express them in words. I need a soundtrack, and a lingering shot of a tree, and a coloured filter,” he continues, before looking sheepishly at Isak, “That sounds so stupid, doesn’t it?”

Isak shakes his head. “Not at all, I do the same with science. Hard facts help me understand myself and the world around me.”

Even tilts his head, eyes softening, “Exactly.”

They lock eyes, Even’s attention feeling like an electric current pulsing through Isak.

“Maybe we can watch your movies sometime, and you can help me understand them?” Isak asks, feeling bold.

“I’d love that,” Even says, and the look on his face says he means it.

It’s quiet for a moment, both of them sipping their coffees, eyes not leaving each other’s faces.

At the table next to them, a couple is sitting hand in hand, sharing soft kisses, and Isak aches.

Aches for the kind of love they have, and for the first time in forever, he finds himself not looking around for his own mirrored bond. He’s interested in what Even’s bond is, hidden under his sleeve, but it’s only a passing interest. He meant it when he told Sana he wanted to give this a chance, doesn’t think he’d forgive himself if he passed up the opportunity to be with Even, no matter how short.

“Would you date someone who isn’t your soulmate?” Isak asks, startling himself with the question.

Something flashes in Even’s eyes, too fast for Isak to understand what. Maybe he would say it was hurt, maybe heartbreak.

“I tried that, before…” Even says, looking outside, away from Isak, “and I said I would never do it again. But now,” he turns his head, looks Isak straight in the eyes, “I think I would. I think I’d stop denying myself love, even if it’s not meant to last.”

Isak stops breathing, can only look back into Even’s eyes.

“How about you?” Even asks and Isak chews his lip.

“I didn’t come out on my own terms,” Isak says and Even frowns, confused by the apparent change of subject, “I got outed because I convinced myself this guy was my soulmate. I saw… part of his bond, and I became convinced he was it, my soulmate” Isak explains and the sides of Even’s mouth turn down in sympathy. “It was painful. Heart-breaking.”

Even hums, “So you wouldn’t?” The question seems innocent, if not for the way Even’s hands cling to the coffee cup.

Isak smiles, shyly, looking at Even from under his lashes, “I didn’t say that. Sometimes the heartbreak might be worth it.”

The responding smile Even beams at him lights up the entire coffee bar, making Isak feel warm and loved.

“Yeah, I think so too,” Even says, and he reaches out his hand, wordlessly asking for Isak’s. They clasp hands on the table, Even’s thumb rubbing comforting circles on the back of Isak’s hand.

They sit like that, holding hands, sharing laughter and stories, as easy as coming home.

Even hums when his phone rings, stretches backwards to take it out of the pocket of his jacket. The movement makes his sleeve rise up, just a tiny bit, and Isak inhales sharply.

He can see the beginning of Even’s bond, the deep black, the beginning of a stem, frail and intricate, even that tiny part he can see.

For one, heart stopping moment, hope flares up in Isak and his fingers itch to push Even’s sleeve up higher.

Then Even turns back to him, smiling, “Sorry about that, that was my mom.”

“No problem,” Isak replies, breathless, trembling.

Even frowns, opens his mouth to ask Isak if he’s okay, but gets interrupted.

“Even?” a voice sounds, and Isak looks up. There’s a girl standing next to their table, she’s beautiful, short blonde hair framing her face, the sadness in her eyes making her even more stunning.

“Sonja,” Even takes his hand out of Isak’s grasp, and he feels the loss of contact like a punch in the stomach. “This is Isak. Isak, this is Sonja, my… ex girlfriend.”

Sonja’s eyes flare, as she looks from Isak to where their hands were clasped moments before.

“Can we talk?” Sonja taps her foot on the ground, crosses her arms. Isak sees part of himself in her, the hurt disguised as anger. He figures losing Even must be incredibly hard. Even chews on his lip, looking at Isak and Sonja before nodding.

He guides her to a corner, further from Isak.

Isak can’t hear what they’re saying, but judging by their body language, it isn’t good. Even moves his hands around as he talks, his face apologetic. Sonja’s body is stiff, her arms still crossed tightly over each other.

Then suddenly she crumbles, and although Isak can’t see her face, he understands she’s crying. Even pulls her towards him, and her arms crawl around his neck, his arms around her waist. The movement hitches up her shirt, revealing her tattoo and Isak feels himself sinking.

It's a rose, beautifully formed, the petals looking soft, wet from morning dew. The little thorns look like they could actually draw blood. It’s gorgeous and Isak wishes he could appreciate the beauty instead of feeling like his world is collapsing once more.

The stem he saw moments before was the beginning of a rose, he understands that now.

Of course Even shares a tattoo with Sonja. How could he even entertain for a minute Even, beautiful, ethereal Even was carrying a dandelion on his body. A weed… Even is not a weed, he’s a beautiful flower, a rose with so much detail it looks lifelike.

Sometimes things like these happen, soulmates lose each other for a second, but Isak isn’t stupid. They’ll find each other again and then Even will throw Isak aside like the weed he is.

Suddenly the loss feels almost physical, he feels like he can’t breathe. He gets up from his chair, and when Even looks at him over Sonja’s shoulder, Isak holds up his phone, as if to say he’ll text him later.

Even nods, mouths “sorry” and Isak smiles, strained, biting his lip to stop him from embarrassing himself further and crying.

He doesn’t remember how he gets home, just knows that the next moment he’s in his bed, pillow hugged to his chest, Linn and Eskild each on one side, tethering his soul to his body.

*

The next morning Isak is sitting in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hands. Eskild is leaning against the counter and Linn is sitting next to him, slowly eating a bowl of cornflakes, listening intently to Isak and Eskild talking.

“You thought he wasn’t your soulmate from the beginning, though,” Eskild says.

“I know, and I really thought I could date him anyway, but then I saw her and it just became so much more real,” Isak replies, scowling into his coffee cup.

Eskild tuts, “He broke up with her, though.”

“They always come back to each other in the end, we all know that,” Isak argues.

“But you didn’t see his bond, how can you know it was the same?” Eskild asks.

“I saw a stem on him, and the rose on her. I think it’s pretty obvious,” Isak says, irritation clear in his voice.

“I think the only obvious thing here is that you’re denying yourself the pleasure of his company, baby gay,” Eskild says and Isak rolls his eyes at him, ready to bite out a retort when Linn speaks for the first time that day.

“Do you love him?” she asks, voice soft, scratchy from disuse.

“I just met him, don’t be ridiculous,” Isak rolls his eyes at her, all fake bravado.

“Could you love him?” she asks, ignoring his posturing.

Isak is quiet for a beat, and that’s enough of an answer to Linn, “Life is short, Isak,” she says, before getting up and walking into her room.

Isak watches her door, before turning to Eskild, “What’s her soulbond, Eskild?” he half-whispers. He’s never seen Linn’s bond, he knows it’s on her foot, but it’s always covered with a bandage, like a wound.

“That’s her story to tell, baby gay,” he replies, sadness in his eyes.

“Is she okay?” Isak asks instead.

Eskild nods, “She will be.” He quietly gets up, walks to Linn’s door, “She’s right, though. Life is short,” he says, before slipping in Linn’s room, leaving Isak alone with his thoughts once more.

*

Isak knows Eskild and Linn are right, but before, Even’s soulmate was an abstract person. Now she’s becoming someone real, living and breathing, and that makes his decision to date Even, regardless of the consequences, a bit harder.

So, a week passes and he doesn’t see Even, blaming it on his huge workload and the paper he’s writing with Sana. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t hear from him, however.

They text constantly. They talk about everything, from dumb memes to Isak’s research and Even’s movies. Even makes Isak laugh and smile, and makes his heart flutter in ways he didn’t think were possible.

Every time his phone lights up with a message, Sana’s smile turns smug, knowing, and Isak doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed about it.

He knows that every text he receives makes him fall deeper and harder. Even is funny, smart, kind, and passionate, and Isak is giving him his heart, piece by piece. He doesn’t mean to, he meant to protect his heart from the inevitable heartbreak, but instead he finds himself replying to Even’s “good morning” texts with yellow hearts.

*

On Friday he’s out at a bar, slowly getting drunk. Jonas is pressed to his side, leaning on Isak’s shoulder and rambling about Mikael’s lips.

“No, but listen,” he says for the third time in as many minutes, “how can anyone be this perfect?”

Magnus, sitting across from Isak, moans, and lets his head fall forward, thumping against the wood of the table, “When is this happening for me?”

Mahdi pats the back of Magnus’ head, muttering something no one hears but makes Magnus groan nonetheless.

“It felt like coming home, you know?” Jonas says, like he wasn’t interrupted by Magnus, “I kissed them and it was like… Life made sense!” Jonas’ eyes shine, and Isak doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or talking about Mikael, but he’s never seen his best friend like this.

“Are they… you know?” Mahdi asks, trying to be as gentle as possible about it.

Jonas pouts for a moment, “I don’t know, but I don’t care!” He raises his glass in the air, and it sloshes over, coating Jonas’ hand in beer. He doesn’t even notice however, too busy with the toast he’s about to give. “To love, soulmate or not! To just going for it! To accepting that maybe your heart will get broken! To coming home!”

Magnus shouts with Jonas, and the two of them down their glasses in one go. Isak and Mahdi follow, but a lot slower.

Isak sees how Mahdi subconsciously rubs his fingers over his hip, and the tattoo Isak knows is there. Mahdi is not as open about his bond as Magnus, but he’s also not as secretive as Isak is. So, Isak has seen the tattoo before, the little malin symbol, representing Mahdi’s ability to overcome obstacles, the strength he possesses.

Mahdi grins as he catches Isak’s eye and Jonas starts in on another rant about Mikael.

Isak’s thoughts stray to Even, as they so often do these days. Jonas is droning on about overcoming obstacles, Magnus is hanging on his every word, and even Mahdi listens with a smile curved around his lips. And Isak… Isak realises Jonas is right.

Kissing Even _had_ felt like coming home, like it made sense, in a senseless world, and maybe the alcohol is speaking, but Isak misses Even, like missing a piece of his heart.

He startles when his phone buzzes in his pocket, smiling when he sees Even texted him, like he summoned him with his thoughts.

**Even 23:36**

_You look beautiful_

Isak blushes when he sees the text, and starts scanning the room for Even.

**Even 23:36**

_I’m not there, but I just know you do_

**To Even 23:37**

_You’re a dork. Maybe I’m at home, in my sweats. The stained ones!_

**Even 23:37**

_You’d still look beautiful_

Isak reads the text over and over, his heart beating so loud he feels like the boys must hear it. Is it worth the inevitable heartbreak?

**Even 23:38**

_I miss you, baby_

Guess he’ll find out.

*

Isak walks into his childhood home the next day, meeting his mamma for their monthly lunch date. Toeing off his shoes in the hallway, he follows the smells of his mamma’s cooking.

He risks a look into the other rooms, noticing they’re messy, but not dirty. It’s a good sign.

“Hello, mamma,” he greets, as he walks into the kitchen, going up to her to kiss her on the cheek.

She hums, pats his cheek. “Hello, baby. How are you?”

“Fucking hungover,” he says, as he drops down onto the kitchen chair. She chuckles and gets him a glass of water. Isak gulps down the water gratefully, making her smile.

“How are you?” Isak asks, after she’s turned back to the stove.

She’s quiet for a beat and Isak knows she’s thinking about her answer. After he moved out, he made his mamma promise to always be honest with him. He wasn’t there anymore to watch her, to look for the signs, and so he needed her to tell him if she needed help. It wasn’t always easy, sometimes she didn’t realise she was slipping until it was too late, but they slowly had gotten better at communicating with the help of therapy.

“I’m adjusting to the new meds,” she says, sighing, “I’m having nightmares, but during the day I feel okay.”

Isak nods, and smiles at her when she turns around to look at him. “That’s good,” he says.

At his mamma’s request he begins setting the table for the two of them, the familiarity making him peaceful.

They eat in silence for a while, the radio playing in the background, and Isak feels his thoughts circling back to Even.

“Do you…,” Isak starts, stopping when his mamma looks up. She tilts her head, waiting for him to continue. “Do you think it’s worth it? Love?”

She breathes out, leans backwards in her chair. “Did you meet someone?” Isak nods and she hums in contemplation. “But they don’t share your bond?”

Isak shrugs, “I don’t think so.”

“Is he kind? Smart? Beautiful?” She asks, and Isak nods after every question, blushes. “Then love him,” she says, matter of factly.

“What if he’ll leave me for his soulmate one day?”

“What if he doesn’t?” she asks, Isak opens his mouth to argue the odds, but she continues, “I know that’s unlikely, but Isak, it’s useless to think about what if. The soulbond doesn’t guarantee anything.”

She touches the scarred tattoo on her wrist, sighing sadly. “If you can love, then love, no matter the consequences.”

“Would you have made a different choice, if you knew what would happen?” Isak asks her, and she leans forward, cupping Isak’s cheek.

“I wouldn’t change a thing in the world, because every decision I ever made brought me you and the amazing man you are turning out to be.” Her thumb brushes Isak’s cheekbone. “But don’t make the same choices I made, my son. Love! Love with all your heart, fuck society. Fuck soulmates.”

Isak startles a laugh, “Fuck soulmates.”

*

He debates waiting to text Even, but he figures he has waited long enough. He texts Even, asking him if he’s free to go out for dinner and a movie tonight.

Even’s reply is instant.

**Even 15:16**

_I thought you’d never ask_

Isak smiles down at his phone, butterflies erupting in his stomach. He can’t wait to see him, to kiss him.

The rest of the day passes in a haze of nerves and too many clothes changes to count. He’s so nervous he resorts to knocking on Eskild’s door, begging him to help pick an outfit.

“Have you decided to stop thinking so hard?” Eskild asks him after he hands Isak a shirt and pants.

Isak shrugs. “I don’t think I can stop thinking, but I also… can’t stop thinking about him,” he mumbles the last part.

Eskild laughs. “Who would’ve thought someone could turn this grumpy boy into a romantic?” Isak rolls his eyes at Eskild, already regretting the words. “No, I’m serious, that was beautiful!” Eskild continues.

“Please stop,” Isak grumbles, turning to the mirror to check out his outfit. He’s pleasantly surprised with what he sees, Eskild has chosen well. His pants are maybe a little tighter than Isak would’ve picked, but he hopes Even might like it.

“Don’t worry, baby gay,” Eskild says, his voice suddenly soft as he comes to stand behind Isak, “Whatever happens, you’re so brave for trying.”

Isak nods and accepts the hug Eskild forces on him, letting the older man take away some of his worries.

“Now, go get your man!” Eskild says eventually, releasing Isak and shooing him out the door. “Be sure to use protection!” he shouts, right before Isak closes the door, making him groan and stick out his middle finger over his shoulder.

He gets nervous again as he’s waiting in front of Even’s building. Even had texted he’d be down in a minute, and so Isak is left pacing on the sidewalk, trying to calm himself down.

His thoughts get interrupted when his phone rings and he frowns when he sees it’s Jonas. They never call each other, unless something urgent is happening so Isak picks up, bringing the phone to his ear.

Jonas begins speaking even before Isak has said hello. “They’re my soulmate!” he says and Isak’s mouth falls open.

“What?”

“They’re my soulmate!” Jonas repeats, wonder in his voice.

“Are you sure?” Isak asks, and Jonas huffs annoyed.

“Yes, I’m sure, Isak. I saw their tattoo myself.”

“That’s amazing, dude! I’m so happy for you,” Isak says, the biggest smile appearing on his face.

Jonas makes a sound in between a laugh and a sob. “I’m such a hypocrite, listen to me.”

Isak snorts. “I knew this would happen.”

“Oh fuck off,” Jonas says, but there’s no heat behind his words.

Even chooses that exact moment to walk out the door, and Isak loses his train of thought when he sees him. His hair is styled up, he’s wearing a jean jacket over a white shirt that seems to be painted on, and when Isak’s eyes travel down to Even’s legs, he swallows hard around the _want_ lodged in his throat.

“Listen, Jonas, I want to know everything, but Even just arrived and we’re going on a date so…”

This time Jonas snorts. “That’s fine, go get your boy.”

Isak mumbles a distracted goodbye before shoving his phone in his pocket and walking up to Even.

“Hello,” he says, and Even smiles, looking as awestruck as Isak feels.

“I’ve missed you,” Even says, making Isak lunge forward, crashing their mouths together.

Even places his hands on Isak’s cheeks, angling his head, softening the kiss. Isak moans in his mouth, his arms crawling around Even’s waist and pulling him close.

“I’ve missed you too,” Isak says in the space between their mouths. “I’m so sorry I was so distant. I just had…”

“It’s okay,” Even says, kissing Isak again and again. “You’re here now.”

They go out for noodles, Even making fun of the way Isak holds his chopsticks, their feet linked under the table, their eyes not leaving each other’s faces.

Isak feels like he’s dreaming, sharing soft kisses and giggles, walking hand in hand through the streets of Oslo towards the theatre.

Even chooses the movie, only grinning when Isak asks him if this is going to be another tragic love story.

Two hours later, Isak sorely regrets letting Even choose the movie, as he tries to wipe away the tears.

“That was so sad, what the fuck, Even!” Isak complains after the lights come back on and the soft notes of Visions of Gideon stop playing.

Even laughs softly and wipes away a tear from Isak’s cheek.

“It was so unfair, they were soulmates, and still he left him!”

Even hums, “I know.”

Isak suddenly stills, remembering Sonja. He had forgotten all about her tonight, too caught up in Even. He’s not about to run away again, she’s in Even’s life and it will be something Isak has to accept, but maybe they should talk about it.

He turns to Even, biting the inside of his cheek, “I guess it’s not that easy, sometimes.”

“I guess not,” Even affirms.

“I’m sorry,” Isak says, heart clenching when he sees the sadness in Even’s eyes.

“What are you sorry for?” Even asks him, head tilted.

“I didn’t mean to be harsh. I know you and Sonja…”

“Me and Sonja what?” Even frowns, before he seemingly catches on, “Oh! We’re not soulmates!” he says, eyes wide, confused.

“You’re not?”

“No,” Even says, before leaning forward, capturing Isak’s lips in a soft kiss, “Is that why you left last week? At the coffeeshop?”

Isak nods, embarrassed. Even nudges his cheek with his nose, breathes Isak in and Isak feels like he could fly away. Isak can’t help the relief flooding him when he realises Even’s soulmate isn’t in Even’s life, not yet.

“I have to tell you something,” Even says, and Isak nods, lets Even take him by the hand and pull him out of the theatre.

They walk in silence, until they reach a bench, and Even sits down.

Isak waits for Even to speak, their hands still linked.

“I’m bipolar,” Even says, and Isak’s head snaps up to look at him, “and during a manic episode, I tried to get Sonja’s bond illegally tattooed on me. I wanted her to be my soulmate so bad, and I convinced myself that having a fake bond would make us soulmates. I was going to get rid of this one,” he gestures with the hand holding Isak’s, his bond covered by his sleeve, “and get hers.”

Even swallows, eyes focused on the distance. “Luckily Yousef found me in time, stopped me… After that, Sonja and I broke up, because I realised she would always hold the episode against me, even when she tried not to, and I would never stop wishing she was my soulmate, instead of enjoying what we had.”

“After that I kind of started to hate my soulbond, and started hiding it,” he says, sadness colouring his voice, “I think, maybe, I could start loving it again, though.” He looks at Isak as he says that last part, his eyes roaming over Isak’s face, as if looking for something.

“My mamma is schizophrenic, and she was born with two tattoos,” Isak says, and the confession makes Even’s eyes soften, “After her mental health deteriorated, she felt like she got rid of the wrong one, and she started hating hers as well. Once she… tried to get rid of it,” he says, and the memory still makes him shudder.

Even reaches out, pulls Isak close to him, “Is she okay now?”

“She’s stable,” Isak nods, “After years of therapy and the right meds,” he looks at Even, smiles, “She’s the one that told me to go after you, regardless of what our bonds say.”

Even frowns for just a second, “I’ll have to thank her, then. Does she like flowers?”

Isak’s heart stutters, confused by the question. “She loves flowers.”

Even nods, as if Isak’s answer meant more than Isak realises.

“Good,” he says, before kissing Isak, tenderly and so loving Isak’s toes curl in his sneakers.

“Come home with me,” Even says, smiling, when the memory of the first time he said those words strikes.

“Okay,” Isak says, and Even kisses him again, before getting up, linking his hand with Isak’s once more.

Their walk home takes twice as long as they have to stop every few metres to exchange heated kisses. Isak moans in satisfaction when they finally reach Even’s room and he can press Even against his door.

He sucks a bruise on Even’s neck at the exact same spot as last time while Even ruts up against him, panting out Isak’s name.

“Please,” Even begs, pulling at Isak’s shirt.

Isak stills, and Even immediately stops what he’s doing.

“Are you okay?” he asks, taking Isak’s face in his hands.

Isak nods, kissing Even softly before turning them around and pushing Even onto his bed.

He straddles Even, reveling in the lovestruck look on Even’s face. Isak breathes in deeply, thumbs his shirt, trying to find the courage to take it off.

“It’s okay,” Even whispers, seemingly understanding the reason for Isak’s hesitation, “No matter what, I promise it’s okay.” His hands settle on Isak’s ribs, his left hand right on Isak’s soulbond. Isak closes his hand around Even’s left wrist for a second, his thumb stroking over the tiny part of the bond that’s visible.

He bends forward and clicks on a light on Even’s nightstand. If he’s doing this, if he’s showing Even who he truly is, he wants him to be able to really see him.

Even lets his hands drop down to Isak’s thighs to give Isak the room to take off his shirt. His eyes are calm, peaceful, and Isak believes him, he believes it will be okay.

Isak bends down one last time to kiss Even, soft and sweet.

And then he pulls off his shirt, letting the soft light fall onto his bond.

Even’s hands shoot up and his fingers caress the flower, tracing the stem.

“Isak,” he whispers and Isak is so caught up in his nerves it takes him a moment to look at Even’s face and realize he’s crying.

The cold dread fills him immediately and it takes all his willpower not to run, not to scream.

“Isak,” Even repeats and then he surges up, kissing Isak with more passion than he thought was possible.

Even’s tears drip onto Isak’s cheeks and after a moment, Isak leans back, hands coming up to wipe away the tears.

“Even?” he asks, his voice wavering.

“I hoped,” Even says, kissing Isak’s cheeks, “I hoped so hard.” And then he leans back, pulling off his own shirt.

Isak turns his body slightly to look at Even’s wrist and there it is:

The dandelion, the same one as Isak’s, up to the very last detail.

Isak gasps, his own eyes filling with tears as he turns back to Even.

Even’s laugh is a little wet when they make eye contact and he softly pecks Isak on the lips. “Hello, soulmate,” he whispers and Isak inhales sharply, pushing his body closer to Even’s.

“Even,” he says, and Even nods, understanding.

They kiss, again and again, unable and unwilling to let go of each other. Feelings too big and overwhelming to talk.

The rest of their clothes get strewn around the room, the need to touch, kiss, lick every part of each other.

Every part of their soulmate.

Isak keeps whispering Even’s name, like a prayer and Even answers every time. Assuring Isak’s he’s here, he’s not leaving, he’s his now.

When Even breaches him, Isak cries, pulling Even’s body as close as possible to him.

“You’re okay, baby. I got you,” Even whispers against his sweat soaked skin and Isak moans, lost in emotion.

*

“Soulmate,” Isak whispers, seemingly hours later, as they lie under the covers only covered by the sweat on their skins.

“I’m so lucky,” Even responds, dipping down to kiss Isak’s bond, settling his head on Isak’s chest.

Isak winds his fingers through Even’s hair, softly scratching his scalp. “Do you still think the bond is bullshit?” Isak asks him. He tries to keep his voice light, joke about it.

Even pushes himself up to look Isak in the eyes. He kisses him, once, twice. On his lips, on both cheeks, on his forehead.

“I started changing my mind the moment I met you,” he says, and Isak stops breathing. “I started wishing for you to be mine when we went out for coffee. And then today, when you picked me up, I started hoping, against all odds, that I was worthy of being your soulmate.”

He’s quiet for a beat, studying Isak’s face, tracing the line of his jaw with his finger.

“So, no, I don’t still think the bond is bullshit. Because it brought me this, brought me you, and I’ll never be more grateful for anything in my life.”

“Even,” Isak whispers for the thousandth time that night, “I’m the lucky one.”

Even’s responding smile is so wide, Isak can feel it throughout his entire body, warming up every piece of him. As Even lays back down, covering Isak’s body with his, Isak can feel something settle, deep within him.

He takes his mamma’s advice: he loves, with all his heart, with all his soul.

**Author's Note:**

> [Find me on Tumblr ](http://greathalesonfire.tumblr.com/)  
>  (side note: I'm sad I couldn't get that into the fic but I have all the main character's tattoos in my head, hit me up if you want to know more, hahah)


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